Burning Bridges and Lighting Ways
by Hemlock
Summary: Remy LeBeau, just him. No other X-Men. Just a bunch of new friends, new indefinite allies, trails of broken hearts across the continents, and maybe he can finally steal something without getting in trouble. And now, what our thief will do for a name. The Contract will resume next chapter.
1. The Chase

"You're a beautiful man. This job will be a cinch."

The man with a thousand-dollar suit just gave him a compliment and a kiss in the ass. He wondered why. He gave the suit a neutral look.

"Why is she important?"

The suit shrugged. "It's not my place to know, and thus it's not your privilege to know, too. All I know is that you have been summoned, and this is the contract." Before he could ask further, the suit added: "And should you refuse, you are required, of course, to discard any memory regarding to this offer, to me, and to this meeting."

That moved his right brow up a bit. "Are you trying to make this sound mysterious, just to entice my curiosity?"

That shrug again. "And here I was hoping for a complete discretion in your guild's part, only to be met with question after question. Well," he said, standing up and gathering his keys, "I'm going now. I'm authorised to give you three days so you may consider this contract. On Friday the 26th, at this hour, I will consider that you've declined this contract should I receive no form of reply."

Two men, sitting by the door, also rose. They also wore suits, although the ones that these men wore hang loose on their bulky frames. He watched as the trio walked out of the café, the one who had just given him the contract sandwiched in the middle.

He tried to focus back to his drink. It was a hot day and this iced lemon tea, laced with vodka, hit the spot. He forgot what it was called for the moment.

Then he noticed a mobile phone that was not his. It was not his because it was in the spot where the suit had just picked up his keys not many minutes ago, and also because it was currently vibrating. Someone was calling the suit.

Looking outside without apparently doing so, he noticed one of the bulky men was walking briskly back to the café. Fully prepared, he grabbed the phone and stood, just as the man entered.

"Hey, your friend left this," he called out, the phone in his hand. The man saw him, walked toward him, swiped the phone from his side, muttered 'thanks', and left.

My, he thought as he paid for his tea, this was going to be very, very interesting.

=0=

"He petted a cat, bought flowers, and then disappeared?"

The tracer shrugged guiltily. The suit man gritted his teeth. With all these cutting-edge technology tracker devices and computers they had, he thought this would be a snap. But his tracer just lost to a lowlife, and for the first time he regretted not having real eyes on the street.

"I'm sorry, sir. There is a possibility, as I've mentioned before, that the signal is just temporarily blocked."

"By what?" he screamed. "The sun!?"

"Or interrupted, or maybe even –"

"This," the suit man continued screaming, "all these, are the best devices and computers you – YOU – said that would find a bacteria in a drop of saltwater, but it can be INTERRUPTED?!"

"Well, sir, it's not perfect…"

He pointed a finger at the tracer. "You say _one more word_, and I swear I will remove your tongue with that Bluetooth headphone." He recomposed himself after realising the entire crew was watching him. They never saw him losing his shit before, he thought. His calmness had been his talent. His entire career was based almost solely on that point.

Now he was acting like an uneducated hyena.

He closed his eyes, breathing in and out, thinking, and planning. An entire plan unfolded before his mind's eye, and he felt calm again.

Turning to the tracer with his eyes closed, he said:

"Now listen."

Everybody tensed up, but not at his words.

There was a knock at the van door.

=0=

_Ten minutes earlier_

"Flowers, Remy! You shouldn't have."

"You know what they mean, love," he said with a charming smile.

She grinned and out of nowhere a long, paddle-like device appeared in her hand. "Well, are you ready?" she asked, grinning mischievously, closing the door behind them.

"I think I am." He let the flowers fall into an empty vase and widened his legs.

"You know, Remy, I've never done this before. This could potentially be exciting."

"Experimentations can be exciting," he said drolly, watching Marge kneeling before him. "Especially with you."

They were inside a flat Marge owned. At a glance it was normal-looking, but Margery Anatolia was not normal, and neither should her flat be assumed as such.

On normal days, any tracking device that entered her domain would be submitted to a barrage of electronic punishment, rendering it to the point of total uselessness. Today, however, Marge let down some of her guards in order to do some reverse tracking.

"I was confused when you petted the cat AND bought flowers. That never happened before," Marge said, meticulously looking at the front of his jeans. She waved the paddle-like device and it gave out a high-pitched beep when it passed a particular spot right under Remy's belt loop.

"Is that it?"

He heard Marge hum. Then he felt her tug firmly at the belt loop. Next she stood up so fast she nearly hit her head on his jaw. Leaping to the nearest table, she swept nearly everything off it, including a bowl of cereals.

A laptop, however, sat safely there. The dark screen blinked to life and first it showed a map. A cat appeared and it began running up and down the screen.

"Neat, isn't it?" he heard Marge say from the other end of the flat. She had a rag in one hand and a plastic bag in another. "It's an old program I didn't need. Didn't know what to do with it because, well you know."

"What does it do?" he asked, sitting down at the table.

"Reverse-tracking, like you wanted. Now I get the chance to see if it works."

Remy stared at the screen for a minute. To him it looked like it worked quite well. The animated computer cat was running in tighter circles by now. "They won't be too far."

"Nope," she said, picking up the last cereal and dumped everything into a dustbin. "Their tech is only as good as their last upgrade, so I can find this in about half a minute."

There was a loud snarling feline sound. "Looks like we found them. And I'm nervous already. Get out there and get these idiots while I turn back on my shield."

Remy stood and gave her a peck on the cheek. "Thanks, doll."

"Don't thank me unless you can get Jubilee back with me," she said jokingly. There was hope, though, behind her eyes.

"I don't want to interfere, Marge. Besides, you need time for the extra."

"Yeah, yeah." She grabbed a glasses case off the side table. "Take this."

Remy pocketed the case and said farewell. Once he was back on the streets, he recalled the location pinpointed by the animated cat and walked into an alley. There it was, the previously-inconspicuous eighteen wheeler.

Now, Remy thought as he rapped his knuckles loudly on the door with a deep feeling of satisfaction, what do you say to a bunch of people who had been tailing you electronically?

=0=

"Open it," the suit man said. He saw his crew hesitate. Shaking his head, he moved toward the door, pushed everyone aside and opened the door.

The thief stood there with a big grin on his face. "I was disappointed with just a GPS tracker. You know, if you could next time, put on me the one that has a camera on it. I can go to a toilet and do a show. Don't use a fish-eye camera; makes it looks wide instead of long –"

"Get in," the suit man said through gritted teeth.

"You're not into that? I can go both ways. Not very picky when it comes to dealing with methods of intelligence, so I have my –"

"Get the HELL IN!"

* * *

_Next: The Contract._


	2. The Name

"I thought you wanted me to help you with this contract."

Remy was being scanned for any sort of weaponry. He grinned most charmingly at the man who had just given him a thorough pat-down. The man sheepishly averted his eyes and turned to attend to his report.

"You agree by coming here."

"With that I had guilelessly assumed trust was the fore. Evidently not, from what has just happened." The scan completed, he was led toward a pair of plastic chairs and a table. "If you don't mind, I'll sit down while listening to your explanation."

"Explain what?"

Remy looked around. The cool interior contrasted with the summer heat that had just begun to increase outside, signalling the year's dive into August. Electronics buzzing, computers blinking, data coming in and going out… "What you are planning, for starters. I am not worth all these, and if you think I am, you're sorely off the mark."

The suit gave out a condescending snort. Funny how anybody could give out a single emotion in such a childish sound.

"I'm worth _more._" A little proud maybe, but Remy softened it with a grin, stressing the last word.

"In your dreams."

Remy nodded. "Ah, but in there I have no price, just your imagination."

Suit man's eyes darted quickly about. A small flicker of – fear? No… his pupils had widened, Remy noticed, even under the darkened lights… he decided to inventory this interesting reaction for future reference.

"But let's not get ahead of ourselves. Let's start again." Remy extended a hand. "I'm Remy LeBeau. Thief extraordinaire. Love is a many-faceted thing."

The suit stared at his hand impassively, then at Remy. Seemingly resigned to whatever fate that awaited him, he grabbed Remy's hand and shook it as he sat down. Remy thought the hand lingered a bit, and kind of liking the warmth it produced.

"What?" the suit asked as he pulled back his hand. Not hurriedly.

Remy thought his voice cracked at the edges just a tiny bit. _Good_, he thought. "You need a lesson in manners."

Somebody sniggered somewhere, and immediately stopped when the suit's eyes flashed at a point over his head. Under this semi-darkness, Remy re-confirmed that they were almost black.

"Your name." Remy said that with a little dab of that power of persuasion.

To his amazement (though the thief cleverly disguised this under a smirk) Remy felt some sort of a resistance. _This is new_, he thought while his mind idly sifted through all possibilities as to why that happened.

"My name is not important," he replied and placed a tiny pyramid atop the table. "_This_, LeBeau, is important. Watch this."

A beam of light shot out of the tiny pyramid and resolved itself to the size equivalent of a widescreen TV. It blinked into life, showing an interface and a few folders. His nimble fingers worked too fast for Remy to see anything appropriately, and in a few moments a video player of what he assumed to be a grab from a security camera feed began playing.

Whatever Remy had been expecting so far was _not_ what he was looking at right now.

"Intrigued, are you now?" Remy heard the man say.

"_This_ is what you wanted me to steal?"

"Yes."

Remy rubbed his chin, feeling that five o'clock shadow scrape his fingers and wondered if this strapping man sitting before him would love it against his dark-brown skin. "This could be tricky."

He spread his arms around, looking very pleased. Remy liked that smile playing on his lips. It made him look boyish. "This is reason for all these hardware. We'll back you up."

Remy stood up. "You know, there's really no need for all this."

"Why?" He crossed his arms.

Remy noted that motion. He took a step toward him, noting those dark eyes widened again. "It would be a waste of time," Remy said, leaning so close that he could catch the suit's scent. He took a whiff (it was intoxicating) and said:

"_Because I stole that yesterday_."

Their breaths were the only other sound they could hear, so still their surroundings had become. Whether the silence was because of the bomb he just dropped, or because of the scene apparently would take a turn for the erotic, Remy did not care. _Just a small turn and his lips would be –_

Suit man turned the other way, rose from his chair and quickly entered a few commands on a computer console. Remy straightened and leant back, trying to judge from this distance whether suit man was nervous, turned on or flustered. It could be all three, he thought as he checked his phone.

After suit man was done with whatever he was doing at the console, he turned to face Remy. His face was a struggle between suspicion and shock. "You stole it? Yesterday?"

Remy shrugged flippantly. "What's so hard to believe? You just called me a thief. I steal things."

"It's still under lock and key, that's what!"

"Digital, mind you."

"Guards were tripled!"

"Hide a leaf in a forest."

"But that – it's still hanging there!"

Remy tut-tutted, waving a finger. "So many questions, and yet I still have no idea what your name is."

The suit frowned at him. "Is everything a game to you?"

"Another question!" Remy reminded him gleefully. He saw another question about to form on his lips when his phone meowed. "Ah, here. You wanted answers? Watch this."

Suit man took Remy's phone as it began showing a video of a masked person. The voice was altered so no way either of them could know the gender. The person began:

"To whoever this may concern – The man who showed you this video is working with us. We noted something funny in the patterns of the recent art thefts, and we wanted to get ahead of you people. So we stole what we assume would be your next target, and replaced it with a very splendid, uh, shall we say, _reproduction_."

Suit man listened to all this in silence, his face an expressionless mask, but Remy noticed him balling his fists now and then.

"Don't fret, we just wanted to make a statement. The painting will be restored once you tell us what all this theft is all about. See, it's still okay. Don't worry your little heads off. If you send people to check the one in the museum, the best authenticators on your payroll will swear on their mothers' graves that it's the real van Baburen."

The video ended with a view of the said painting. Suit man gave him a confused stare. "So it's true."

Remy shrugged. "I was taking a break when you came with that contract. Now you know why I'm interested with a contract that wants me to steal a fake. My, ahem, _patrons_, thought there was something funny in this, so they tell me to agree just to see where it leads. I have to say though, it's quite disappointing."

Suit man sat down and hung his head, finally broken. "Sorry to disappoint you then."

Remy bit his lips, then grinned. "No worries." Remy walked toward the entrance, noticing that the number of suit man's crew had thinned out somewhat. How that was possible without him noticing, Remy decided to mull over it the next time he could. "Thank you for an intriguing Wednesday afternoon."

"Wait," suit man said as Remy was about to open the door.

Remy's hand hovered on the doorknob. He did not turn around, but he could feel suit man's eyes burning on his back. "Another contract?"

"Yes," suit man said with a sigh. "And no."

Remy turned this time. A big grin wreathed his face. "Ah, a dilemma. How drolly bi."

* * *

They sat drinking at the same café, outside this time. They were quite alone now. Suit man made sure the other bulky bodyguards, as Remy referred to them, were gone. And Remy had it with placing 'suit man' in his head every time he stared at this attractive dark-skinned person.

"Come on. Your name."

He smiled, freely this time. "What's with you and names?"

"Maybe I want to tell this story to my children in the future. I can't keep placing a placard 'The Suit' or 'The Handsome Man' all the time. Sooner or later they'll ask me for a name. It's like a bad version of _How I Met Your Mother_."

His smile continued. "You think I'm handsome?"

Remy sipped his drink and tipped his head a little to the side. "A compliment should not be taken lightly."

"For your information, Mr LeBeau," the suit began, "I'm str-"

"You know what?" Remy cut him short with a raised palm. "That's not the information I want. I need your name. I don't need your account number, the name of your cat, who you voted for last time, or even your sexual orientation." He stared at suit's eyes. The dark pools were just as dark out here in the open. They drew Remy in and momentarily distracted him. Remy quickly regained focus though. "I need your name."

"Yeah, yeah, no need to be that dramatic," suit man said. "Name's Judd."

Remy waited. And waited. "Is that your first, middle or last name?" he finally queried.

"There's no need for that." Judd sucked noisily on his drink.

"You know my full name, you know where I've been, and you know I steal for a living." Remy felt like standing up and leaving. "I'd rather steal a painting than break into your social security info, just to know which is which."

Judd raised an eyebrow. "You know, you're getting kind of dramatic."

"Says the man who put a GPS tracker and wasted my whole afternoon for a fake painting."

Judd frowned. "That does sound dramatic, too." He then shrugged. "All right. I'm Judd Ajimura."

"You prefer Judd or Mr Ajimura?"

"I'll turn for both, no worries."

Remy nodded. He made an agreeable sound, saying, "Well, we better get this rolling, Judd. What do you need help with?"

Judd gave Remy a look that said _you won't believe this_. "_We_ want you to steal Time."

* * *

_The next chapter Will Be Named The Contract! Trust me!  
__Thank you for the reviews!_


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